Home Sweet Home
by Lady Razorsharp
Summary: Michael leaves the Foundation behind to start a new life. Set ten years before the events of KR2000.


AN: Knight Rider and all related characters are property of Glen Larson and Universal

AN: Knight Rider and all related characters are property of Glen Larson and Universal. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Home Sweet Home

By The Lady Razorsharp

As the last rays of sunset played among the pines, Michael drove the Chevy up the winding road to the lake house. He'd picked up the keys from the realtor earlier that afternoon, bought a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread and other necessities at the small grocery store, and then started up the mountain to the lake.

Everywhere he turned, the view took his breath away. The sky was painted in gorgeous hues of violet and rose and amber; down by the water's edge, all was blue shadow except for the occasional glint of sunset on the indigo lake. He rolled down the window as he drove, and the scent of the trees came pouring in.

The road soon narrowed to a twin gravel track, and the house appeared over the next ridge. With a rattle of aging engine, the Chevy stuttered to a stop in front of a neat little frame house. The siding of the house had weathered to a pleasing gray-green, and a low stone wall ran around the perimeter of the yard. Now that the engine was silent, Michael could hear the hum of insects all around. Far away, an eagle screamed as it hunted.

He climbed out of the car and stood in the yard a moment with his eyes closed, simply feeling the quiet. _Home,_ he said to himself. _This is home. _After a moment, his eyes popped open. It wasn't home yet.

Home was still the Manor. Home was still Devon and Bonnie and RC.

Home was KITT.

A wave of homesickness threatened to sweep him back down the mountain and into the realtor's office. _Where are you going?_ the realtor would ask.

_I'm going home_, he'd reply.

He shook his head as if to clear the thoughts away. He'd resigned two weeks ago as KITT's driver. He was no longer a Foundation employee, though his retirement--at the ripe old age of thirty-seven--was more than adequate. The only things left of that life were his name, his pension, and the memories.

The eagle screamed again, in search of that night's dinner. Wind whistled in the trees overhead. With just a little imagination, the pine needles hissed his name: _Michael... _The goodbyes hadn't taken long. Without mentioning the argument they'd had several days ago, Devon wished him well. RC had clasped his hand and hugged his shoulders in brotherly fashion. Bonnie…

It had been as hard to say goodbye to Bonnie as he'd thought it would be. Sensing his hesitation, she'd led him out to the meadow beyond the manicured grounds.

"Gonna miss you," she'd said. "What will you do up there?"

He picked a handful of mustard flowers and gave them to her, smiling as she blushed prettily. "I dunno," he said. "Just take it easy for a while, I guess. I think I'd like to start a fishing charter--you know, take vacationers out on the lake."

She nodded. "Sounds like fun."

"Yeah. I hope so." They stopped at the edge of the meadow under the shelter of a large oak. "Bonnie," he began, but she silenced him with her fingertips on his lips.

"Michael, please," she murmured, her touch lingering just a little too long. "Don't say anything you're going to regret."

And so he hadn't said anything--instead, he'd leaned down and done what he'd ached to do for years: He captured her mouth with his own, and felt her melt into his arms.

They stood there for a long time in the gathering darkness, listening to their heartbeats, her head tucked securely under his chin.

Despite her concern, he threw caution to the wind. "I love you," he'd said quietly.

"I know," she said. "I love you, too."

"Wish I'd known a long time ago," he mused. "Wish I'd had the guts to tell you."

She pulled away to look up into his face. "You knew," she said, matter-of-factly, smiling through tears. "Don't give me that static, Michael Knight."

And she'd been right. He'd loved her for years. If that was true…then why was he here?

He'd been asking himself that question since he drove away, and he still didn't have an answer.

He rubbed at his wrist. The bit of plastic and webbing strapped to his arm was now a waterproof watch instead of a sophisticated comlink. His tan line would take a while to fade, but it would eventually.

KITT had been surprisingly understanding about the whole thing. They hadn't talked very much--after all, they'd talked every day for eight years about anything and everything--but there wasn't a need for a long goodbye.

…Or maybe the reason that KITT hadn't protested was because he'd blindsided the AI with the announcement. He hadn't told KITT until he was packed and ready to go. It was dirty pool, but he couldn't let KITT talk him out of leaving. He had to get away. Something was wrong with him, and he couldn't get it straight over a two-week vacation.

He'd tried to work it out, but it all boiled down to one undeniable fact: He didn't want to do this anymore. He just couldn't summon enthusiasm for getting the bad guys, for flying down the road at 200 mph, for trading barbs with Bonnie or cracking jokes with RC or the other techs. Not even the memory of Wilton Knight's last words to him could give him strength anymore, and that had been the final straw.

If he could have, he'd have taken KITT with him, but that was impossible. KITT didn't need a washed-up ex-cop for a partner; the AI needed someone like Michael used to be—someone who wanted to take on the world, someone who lived for the chase and hungered after justice, not someone who wanted the world and its problems to just go away and leave him alone.

He'd been alone when he walked into the darkened garage to where KITT waited. Like their first meeting, KITT's scanner bar flared to life, a slash of red in the darkness, and then the headlights flipped up to bathe him in blue-white brilliance. Slowly, KITT rolled up to him, and he bent down to stroke the glossy prow with his fingertips.

"It's been a great ride, pal," Michael had told him, voice going ragged with emotion.

"It has, hasn't it?" KITT agreed. The scanner swished from side to side for a moment in the silence. "Michael, will you do something for me?"

"Name it."

"...take care of yourself."

"I will, partner."

The headlights dimmed and cast the garage back into darkness. KITT's scanner flared and then faded, the lights winking out one by one.

"Goodbye, Michael."

Even though walking out of that garage had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, 'taking care' of himself was precisely what he intended to do. He turned from the view of the lake and went up the flagstone path to the front door of the house. He fitted the key in the lock, then turned it and opened the door.

"Welcome home," he said to the stillness, and crossed the threshold.

-END-


End file.
